


1. On the loose

by brokxnharry



Series: Teen Wolf Challenge (Niall Horan Album) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxious Stiles Stilinski, Attempt at Humor, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek almost dies, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit Language, Future Fic, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Songfic, Stiles Stilinski Saves The Day, Stiles is a Doctor, Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks, derek and the sheriff get along, lydia is there in spirit, the sheriff is the best dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokxnharry/pseuds/brokxnharry
Summary: Stiles is a diagnostic genius but when it comes to Derek, all the medicine in the world doesn't seem to help. Stiles seems to be failing in everything, being a husband, being a doctor, just - being.





	1. On the loose

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!  
> The gifs used through the chapter are not my own, so full credit to their owners.

Derek could remember the first time Stiles told him what he wanted to do with his life. They were sitting on the hospital's roof, legs dangling over, figures shivering, barely brushing against one another. Lydia had just collapsed, and no one could figure out what actually was wrong with her, why she wasn't getting any better. Derek had found him in an empty bathroom, in the middle of a panic attack, and he'd carried his pretty much dead weight to the roof just to allow him some air to breathe, to give him no other choice but to take air in, and it had worked. He'd started breathing and then he'd started crying and then he'd started telling Derek all those promises about people never having to go through something like that again, and him saving so many people it'd feel like there was no one left to die, and House having nothing on him. Derek could barely understand most of what he was saying but he'd listened anyway, and he'd blindly believed in him before he even knew he was capable of doing that again. But something inside him trusted that Stiles wouldn't let him down. And he never did.

 

" I'm on my way, Derek. Tell them no one does anything until I get there."

" You have a conference to attend, Stiles. You're already set to come home in a couple of days and your ticket is non-refundable. I'll be fine, just let them handle it."

" No way in hell. I'm already at the airport, I'll call you when I land. I love you."

" Love you too, be safe." Derek sighed, knowing he'd already lost that one. He almost always did when it came to Stiles. He'd been with the man long enough to know there was no swaying him, not when it came to the people he loved. And it took Derek about 3 years to realize that he was one of those people, that he could try all he wanted but Stiles wasn't going to leave, would never leave him, regardless of how many reasons he gave him to. And now, 12 years in, he didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve this, but he'd take it. He'd take as much of it as Stiles would be willing to give.

" He's on his way." Derek announced, to the room of close family that included the sheriff, Melissa, Kira, and Cora.

" Of course he is. Well, I'm going to go get us all some supplies, does anyone need anything in specific?" A very pregnant Kira questioned, with a soothing hand on Derek's shoulder.

" No, I'm good. You don't have to come right away, Kira, you need your rest too."

" Don't be silly, I'll be back before you know it, and Scott will probably pick Stiles up and then get him here. Okay, see you in a bit." Kira waved goodbye, leaving the hospital room.

The sheriff leaned on his cane – that he started using after that gunshot that almost cost him his leg – until he dropped into the chair closest to Derek's bed. Melissa sat by Derek's feet, checking his vitals every hour or so, looking at his charts like something would magically appear in them, as Cora dozed off on the couch, lulled by the sound of the sheriff's voice, aged and tender now, as it told all the stories it knew, and then made up some, just to fill the silence.

 

They knew Stiles had arrived before they saw him, Derek's dazed eyes started opening up a bit wider, his heart speeding a beat or two, his body knowing him, sensing his nearness, longing for him. Stiles walked in, with Derek's entire file in his hands, Scott, Kira, the doctor and a nurse trying to keep up.

" Hey, babe, sorry I'm late." Stiles blindly leaned down, his lips finding Derek's without having to look for them.

" Mr. Stilinski, we've waited long enough, we need to get him into an OR to remove those stones before they move."

" I need to make sure they're actual stones first."

" You're way out of line, this is my job, and he is my patient. I didn't even have to wait this long, I did it out of respect. Respect that you even won't give back."

" I don't think now is the time for courtesies, do you?" Stiles looked up from the file, self-assured and daring.

" He is **_my_** patient."

" And he's **_my_** husband. I also happen to have more experience than you and your entire team collectively. So, I need the results to all the tests you ran, all the ultra sounds, anything that's his, I want. And I'll tell you how we choose to proceed in about an hour."

Kira and Scott had settled next to Cora, staring at Stiles in pure fascination. It was the craziest thing, that the boy who used to cry over Star Wars and get into some sort of accident at least once a week, grew so brilliantly into himself. He went to med school, became a doctor, then a diagnostic genius, and it was still a pinch-myself kind of moment for Derek every time he saw him in action. Stiles always said it was the hardest thing he had to do, but he did it anyway, selflessly and courageously, even when he lost his first patient and stayed in bed for a week, or when his supervisor lost his wife and yelled at him in front of the entire hospital, pointing out all his failures, belittling all the ways he'd succeeded, all the ways he still **_could_** succeed. It broke Derek's heart so much, he once told him to just quit, find something else to do that wouldn't tear at him like that, wouldn't make him smell like death all the time. That was one of their bigger fights, because Stiles thought Derek stopped believing in him, started thinking his supervisor was probably right, that he would amount to nothing and would help no one, because he could barely help himself. Derek had woken him up in the middle of the night, pacing and fidgeting and crying – although he would never admit to it if Stiles ever called him out for it – about all the things he knew Stiles could do, wanted Stiles to do, but was terrified of him doing it because what if it didn't feel like Stiles expected it to? What if he woke up 10 years later and felt like he'd chosen the wrong path, like his life wasn't going anywhere, and what if he blamed Derek for it somehow? What if he was miserable for the rest of his life because Derek couldn't protect him from the disappointments of the field he loved with everything in him? Stiles had cried some too, and they'd ended up promising each other, that even if the entire world turned against them, even if it felt like they'd seen the worst face of humanity, even if hope felt unattainable, unrealistic, they would come home to each other and just – let the other believe in them beyond anything else, let themselves get patched up by whispers or touches or blind, senseless fucking. As long as it felt less miserable than everything that existed outside of the two of them.

" Pops, how are you doing?" Stiles turned away from the door as soon as it closed behind the doctor, his eyes focused upon the papers he had in hand.

" I'm great, do you think maybe you need to slow down a little? Let doctors be doctors and you just be a husband for now?"

" I'm a better doctor. Besides, I can be a doctor and a husband at the same time."

" He's probably going to file a complaint." Melissa spoke, knowing how petty Doctor Chase sometimes could be, when he was feeling threatened or belittled.

" Yeah, let him, the dude is an entitled asshole who just hates feeling like he could be wrong. He personalizes every damn thing and I don't have the time or patience to deal with it. So let him file a complaint, let's see where this one will get him."  

Derek then took his hand, silently squeezed, watching as everything that was hard and nonchalant about Stiles, cracked a little. His eyes moved away from the file, searching Derek's eyes like they were trying to remember how he looked, see if anything had changed, if the sickness had altered something about him that Stiles had missed while he was out there, trying to save the world.

" You're not in any pain, are you?" Stiles left his hand in Derek's, running his fingers through his hair with the other hand, being cautious with his movements, aware of the intensity of his grasp. He thought of his own mother, having to do the same for her when she was ill and faded. He thought of his dad telling him to be careful with it, because her headache never went away and he didn't want to give her something else to blame him for without really meaning to. He thought of –

" Nothing too bad. Are you okay?" Derek could smell the anxiety on him, a bitter taste of grief at the back of his throat ever since he heard Stiles coming. He knew what being in hospitals did to him, how his mind worked every time someone he loved was ill. He always thought every minor un-wellness would take them away, every sneeze or cough or unexplainable ache felt like a goodbye to him, and Derek could never make that blind fear go away. He hated how he was contributing to it now, was making it worse by simply not feeling well.

" I'm okay. I just want to get you better. I need to figure this out." All his confidence and guts were weathering away, leaving him vulnerable, afraid, desperate. And Derek knew this Stiles too, the man that loved being the little spoon every time the world started feeling too big and wide open, the man that sometimes called before going into an important surgery just to know that one person out there believed he could do it, that he wasn't all alone facing things that he more times than not, had no control over, had no shield against. And he loved all of Stiles, all the same.  

" You will. I know you will. I believe in you." Stiles' eyebrows formed into a sad frown like he was trying not to cry, as he leaned down, planting a kiss on Derek's forehead, and just staying like that for a moment or two.

" Are you scared? Don't lie to me, I don't need werewolf super hearing to know when you're lying." Stiles whispered, a joking, mildly threatening finger wiggling in front of Derek's eyes, before it fell back into his hair, caressing again.

" I wouldn't dream of it. I'm a little scared, yeah, but not of you not figuring this out, because I have no doubt in my mind there."

" Then, what are you scared of?"

" Of, my body giving out before you can fix this, of you having to carry that with you for the rest of your life and – I'm scared of dying ugly." Derek wasn't aware of Cora's minute gasp, her ears catching the words she never wanted to hear. He wasn't aware of Melissa guiding everyone out, trying to give them some space, let them have this for a little bit longer. Neither was Stiles. He was pulling away from where his head rested against Derek, his breath tripping on itself, on Derek's words, on the memory of the last time they thought they were dying, when Derek was hallucinating with a spell induced fever, screaming about not wanting to die ugly like his family, begging Stiles to make it stop, to put down the fire coursing through his veins, to not let it swallow him whole too.

" You are not going to die, you hear me? I won't let anything happen to you, Derek."

" I know that. I know you'll do all you can, but – "

" No, no. I don't think you understand. I will not let anything happen to you. I will do whatever it takes, to get you better. This is why I do what I do, Derek, to stop people from.. feeling like this. So, no, you're not dying ugly, you're not dying pretty, you're not dying at all."

 " Stiles," Derek sighed, not wanting him to put that pressure on himself, to be God or save what might not be able to be saved.

" I'll go see where those test results are, I'll be back."

Stiles shook his head, detached himself before Derek could latch on. He walked away, feeling betrayed, abandoned, like Derek was just giving up on him. He walked past the questioning group of family and towards the chief's office. He moved from one place to another, knowing his way around these things, understanding what it usually took. He rolled his eyes every time he passed doctor Chase in a hallway and watched as he raised his voice with medical terms as if to gloat about all the knowledge he had, thinking that Stiles couldn't possibly know as much. Fucking immature conceited prick. He briefly smiled every time a familiar face approached him with advice or a promise to do everything they could to help. **_He_** would be the one to do everything for Derek, even if it killed him.

A little over an hour later, he was walking back into Derek's room, interrupting Chase mid-sentence. It sounded like something about Stiles being unprofessional, too close or too proud or whatever.

" You're late."

" Dude," Stiles chuckled, but it sounded dark, bitter, " Give it a rest. I know what's wrong with Derek, and let me tell you, you better thank whichever Gods you believe in that I do, because if we'd followed your treatment plan, it would have been your ass." Stiles laid a few papers out by Derek's feet, pulling the X-rays and ultrasounds out in front of the light.

" What do you mean?" Chase inched closer, already prepared to shut Stiles down.

" Look here, that's a mass, not a stone. There's another one behind his lungs, and another one here too. You could have taken out his entire kidney and it still wouldn't have made him any better. He would have still had those 2 masses."

" What? No, those looked like – "

" Inflamed glands at best, I know. I had a similar case a couple of years back, only, he came to us post-op and the masses had already grown so much, they were inoperable."

" I – I can't believe this. You – " Chase looked absolutely stunned, horrified even, like for the first time it registered that it was people's lives in his hands, and it went way beyond his ego or his record.

" I take no pleasure in proving you wrong, Doc." Stiles smirked, feeling his dad's hands patting his back, Melissa brushing against him in silent encouragement, soundless pride. Chase stared at him with questioning eyebrows, like even he couldn't believe him either.

" Okay. Maybe a little pleasure." Stiles put two fingers in the air, leaving a slight gap between them to explain how little – massive – his pleasure was.

" I think I owe you an apology. You were right." Chase stuck a hand out, and Stiles immediately shook it, no hard feelings there. He'd been questioned before, and he'd proven himself time and time again. It didn't matter in the greater scheme of things, at least people could still be saved.

" Don't worry about it."

" To be fair though, not all those tests came to me first, so you had a fuller picture than I did and – "

" Jesus, just take the L and let him do what he does best." Cora stepped in, opening the door with a guiding hand out of it. Chase cleared his throat, nodded, and left without another word uttered.

" So, what now, boss-man?" Scott asked, hands on Kira's shoulders, massaging them tenderly.

" We find the root of the problem, and take it out. Where are those masses coming from? How is his body not getting rid of them before they even form?"

" I called Lydia earlier, and she just texted me to Facetime her whenever I have the time." Cora said, already taking her phone out and calling Lydia. She picked up less than 2 rings in, looking as perfectly collected as she always seemed to be.

" Is Stiles there?" Lydia asked, going straight to the point, with an urgency in her voice, that she hid beneath all her firmness and composure.

" Right here, Lyds. Sorry to drag you into this, we're kind of on a clock and I can't focus on both medical and supernatural side of things."

" Don't be silly, you saved my life, and I promised you I would always be there when it mattered. I'll even come down there, like, right now if you really need me to."

Lydia hadn't come back to Beacon Hills, not since she had that brush with death that left her with the sound of her own scream in her head for an entire year after. She had told them she was out, she wanted nothing to do with the supernatural, despite her being the most informed and probably the smartest out of them all. So for her to offer so naturally to come back to the place that terrified her like nothing else, Stiles knew how big that was, how damn near impossible it must have felt. But he couldn't find the words to verbalize his appreciation, his fucking gratitude, so he nodded, mouthing that he loved her so much, before diving right into the case.

" There has to be something slowing his healing down, leaving that gap of time for these masses to grow, and once one of them is in there, it can very easily spread and multiply into more." Lydia explained, moving through pages of multiple ancient looking books.

" Like, a spell?" Scott suggested, trying so desperately to be of any help at all.

" No one had any encounters with witches lately though, right? Could it be like a delayed effect of an older spell?" Stiles questioned, looking through the file again, searching for a logical, medical explanation for it, for once wanting it to be this simple.

" I don't think so, because if his healing was working before, there's no reason for it to just – stop."

" You **_can_** directly talk to me, you know, I'm kind of right here."

" Hey, Derbear, let me get back to you once we've figured out a way to save your life, okay? Can you make it that long without my undying attention?"

" I can try." Derek snorted, still bewildered by how easy it was to get to having this with Lydia, after distrusting each other for so long. There was also layered jealousy in there that they didn't really need to address. Especially, since he ended up with Stiles anyway.

" Maybe it's wolfsbane related." Stiles said, almost to himself, putting the file to the side and grabbing his laptop instead.

" Oh no."

" What? What oh no? What's going on?"

" I knew we should have told you about this, fuck."

" Told me about what? We don't have time for this, Cora, just spill."

Stiles was looking through all the pages he had saved, all his back and forth emails with Deaton from his training days, trying to find something. But then, Cora spoke, unsure, ashamed in ways she very rarely showed herself to be. And everything about Stiles just screeched into a halt so sudden, he feared nothing would ever move past this moment.

" There were some hunters, they came here like a month ago, when you had that case with the little girl. One of them lured Derek out, pretending to be an old friend of the sheriff wanting to check up on you and offer a job or something. That asshole drugged him with wolfsbane, then took him to some dungeon and tried to extract information from him. By the time we got to him, he was barely there, most of his body had gone black, and – it took him 3 days to flush the wolfsbane out. Or at least, what we thought was all the wolfsbane in his system."

" Wait, wait, hold on. Derek was drugged, almost died, and no one thought to tell me? What the fuck? Was everyone else in on this?" Stiles' eyes moved across everyone in the room, Scott and Kira were the only ones with their heads bowed down like they had something else to hide, but the sheriff and Melissa shook their head, wanting nothing to do with the accusation in Stiles' eyes.

" You didn't tell me either? Why?" Hurt was swimming across Stiles' features, forming wrinkles around his eyes, pulling the curve of his lips downwards, adding intensity to the frown between his eyebrows. Derek couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much.. devastation in Stiles' eyes. He wondered if he ever did.

" I just – you came home after that case so heavy, so unlike yourself. It took you a week to even communicate again, to sleep enough and not too little or too much, to eat and not look like you couldn't understand the point behind it, to – to look at me. You wouldn't even look at me, Stiles. And by the time you were somewhat back to normal, I thought it was over and done with and there was no reason why I should drag you back into it."

Stiles blinked, didn't realize there were tears pooling in his eyes until they attached themselves to his lashes, slid against his skin like they were trying to wipe away the imprints of Derek's words. He immediately brought a palm up, wiping beneath his eyes, sniffling, like that would somehow take it all back.

" Lydia, how do we test to see if there's any wolfsbane left in his system?"

" I'm not sure, I have a book I can look through, but give me a minute."

" Okay. I'll call you back in a bit then."

Cora ended the call, put the phone back into her pocket, avoided looking in Stiles' direction in fear of finding something there like resentment, or blame. She didn't think she could see that in Stiles' eyes and then look at him ever again.

" I'm going to call Deaton."

" Stiles – "

" No, no, we're not doing this. I'm not doing this with you right now."

" I'm sorry, I know I should have – "

" I thought we were done making decisions for each other, Derek. We made a fucking promise, we had a fucking deal, we do this **_together_** or not at all. And you keep something this big from me? You make Cora and Scott and Kira keep it from me too? What the fuck did I do to make you feel like you can't trust me with this? Because I had a shit day? Because I had a case from hell? So what? What gives you the fucking right to make this call for me? Maybe I wanted to be there for my husband. Maybe I wanted an excuse to drop everything and just – go fucking be there with you while you fought for your life, again. Every fucking time I think we're past this shit, Derek, every fucking time you just – " Stiles put a fisted palm against his lips, slipping between anger and misery, not knowing what to do with it, not knowing how to let it out without coloring the whole world an ugly shade of rage.

" I would have been there. And now, I may never get the chance to."

Stiles shut the door behind him so aggressively, he thought it would never open again. He tried to breathe in, count till 4 but he never made it. His chest felt like it'd been set on fire, choking on the rising smoke within it, buried under layers upon layers of wreckage of all the flames had eaten in its way. He wondered if Derek could hear his heart trying to outrun him, wondered if he wanted him to, if only to make him feel bad for what he'd done. But he knew better than to think Derek wouldn't already be drowning himself in guilt and shame. He was just being spiteful. He thought he earned it, Derek kind of had it coming.

He pushed his shoulder into the door leading to the roof, his head pounding with the lack of air, with his heart beating so desperately against his chest like it wanted out. The door finally gave, and Stiles tripped, struggling to find a focal point, trying to find his center and just – stick to it, instead of everything feeling out of balance, thrown so far off its axis, he felt like nothing would ever feel right again. Like his world would always be tipped, never to settle again. He couldn't remember the last time this had happened, couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this bad. Was it when they called him in the middle of the night, telling him that his dad was shot and no one could get any updates on him because he had no one else but Stiles? Was it when Scott accidentally burned the dinner that was meant for the pack meeting and Derek's eyes turned red so fast, his control slipping so suddenly, Stiles didn't see it coming? Or was it –

He couldn't **_breathe_**.

A mantra of _no, no, no, please this can't be happening, this can't happen, he's dying, he needs my help, please please please work, please breathe, fuck, please_   repeating in his head, trying to drown out the sound of him choking on every breath he failed to take in, to overshadow the sense of looming doom he was being crushed under, until he collapsed to his knees, his chest startled into taking one full breath, and then another. Stiles ended up on his back, chest facing forward, metaphorically cracked so wide open, willing the universe to take more out of him.

When the fogginess of his mind started to clear a little, and his mindset wasn't _I'm going to die, this is it, this is what death feels like_ , he started calculating all the different ways they could approach this, started thinking every option through, finding the pros and cons, disregarding possibilities and adding new ones. Then, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, it had been for a while but it'd only just clicked now. He took it out and it was Lydia, so he sat up, answered her call, and told her the 3 final options he had in mind. He could tell she wanted to ask if he was okay, if he wanted to talk about it, but she didn’t, seeing something in his expression that was almost like a warning sign, that one question could very easily break him apart.

She gave him the information she had and left the medical decisions to him, and then, Cora and Scott came through the door, looking like kids who were caught doing something they shouldn't. In a way, they were. Stiles hung up, promised Lydia to call in with the updates.

" Stiles, I – you smell, weird, did you – was it a panic attack?" Scott tripped over his words, not knowing what to do, how to take that empty look away from Stiles, how to make it better. Stiles didn't respond, let the stench just suffocate the hell out of their super werewolf noses.

" Damn." Cora whispered, her voice cracking around the disappointment.

" Look, Stiles, we're sorry. We know we should have just told you, but he was unconscious for so long, we were kind of losing our minds thinking of things to do and ways to save him and – "

" How do you think **_I_** feel now?"

It was silent for a beat or two.

" Shit, you're right."

" Stiles," Scott whined, itching with a need to comfort his friend, find reassurance with him that he was still his friend, that all would eventually be forgiven. Stiles sighed, shook his head and patted the space beside him, and within seconds, Scott was beside him, their shoulders touching, his hands vibrating beside him, waiting for permission to touch and hold. Cora sat on his other side, a bit more distance between them, but she had a knowing smirk on her lips like she already knew he couldn't stay mad at them for long.

" Don't look so cocky, I'm still pissed at you. And Kira. And Derek too, oh my God, I'm furious."

" We know, we get it, it's fine, we know we earned it. But we were trying to protect the two of you, we didn't know it would get this bad. I want you to know that, Stiles. If we knew he was still not 100%, we would have told you."

" You should have told me anyway, Scott. As soon as it happened. He's my husband, I deserve to know."

" Okay, you're right. Won't happen again." Scott promised, eyes earnest, although Stiles wasn't quite willing to fully look at them yet.

" Was it really that bad?"

" It was.. it was bad, Stiles. Like. Really bad. He looked half dead, more than half. He looked more dead than alive. I thought I was going to have to lose him again, and." Cora dimmed, sounded like she was drowning a little. Stiles took her hand and squeezed, still facing forward, still clinging to his anger like an armor.

" It's okay. I'll get him better, I promise." Cora nodded, absorbing Stiles' voice, choosing to miss the slight crack there, like he had trouble believing it too.

" I know you will. And I really am sorry."

Stiles declared his armor, cracked, putting an arm around each of their necks, pulling them in. For whose sake, he couldn't really tell, he just allowed himself that moment of vulnerability, of need, before he dusted himself off, rushing back to Derek's room with a plan.

" Okay, I think I know what we need to do." He said, as soon as he barged in, grabbing an empty piece of paper and drawing his plan out.

" Stiles,"

" Not now. Not yet. Let me fix this then we'll talk, okay?" Stiles lifted his eyes momentarily, trying to silently reassure Derek that they were still in this together, that they were good, they would be good once he was well again.

" I think we need to try to put you to sleep, if there's still wolfsbane in your body, it'll work and we'll operate on you while you're out, to take those masses out, then we'll flush your entire blood flow and basically replace it all with good, non-poisoned blood. If you don't sleep, then – we might have to operate on you while you're awake."

" Holy shit, what? He'll be awake while you rummage through his insides to cut some actual masses out? Isn't there any other way for us to do this?"

" Trust me, Cora, I've gone through every single option. We need to go in there no matter what."

" But, if there's no wolfsbane, then shouldn't his body heal itself every time you try to cut it open?"

" You're right, which is why everything is going to be laced with wolfsbane." Stiles looked almost sorry to have thought of this as an option at all. " Just enough to keep you opened up, but not enough to stop your healing all together. We can't risk another dosage of wolfsbane, not when your body is still this weak, Derek."

Stiles was the only one who directed his words to Derek and not completely disregarded his presence or deprived him of his right to make decisions concerning his own wellbeing. Which was ironic, since Derek kind of did that to him quite recently. But Stiles was never one to hold grudges, never one to hold things over your head and use it against you for the rest of your life. Derek loved him so much.

" I understand, do whatever you need to do."

The room erupted into chaos, everyone throwing around suggestions and possibilities and plans. Stiles maneuvered his way around them, everything in a stand still for him, because Derek pulled his hand out patiently waiting for him to take it, his eyes twinkling with so much blind belief, like he could do anything, be anyone, and Derek would still find a way to love him.

" I'll be right there with you through everything. I don't think they'll let me operate on you myself, but I'll scrub in and watch over everything. I'll make sure whoever is in there knows what they're doing. Nothing is going to happen to you, Derek, okay? I've got you, I promise." Derek nodded, tugging at Stiles' hand until he clumsily fell into his chest, and Derek wrapped himself around him, held on like he could feel Stiles fading away, like if he loosened his grip, Stiles would evaporate into nothing, just a figment of Derek's imagination giving him something resembling hope.

" Don't be mad at me. Please, I'm sorry. I trust you with everything, with my fucking life, but I underestimated you – apparently that's something even I can still do although I know you're capable of anything, of everything - and I'm **_sorry_**. I love you. Please, Stiles, I can't go into this knowing that you're mad at me. I can't do it."

" Shh, I'm not mad. I love you too. So much. And I need you back in one piece, so stop making everything seem like a goodbye. I'm not saying goodbye to you, Derek. We'll get through this. I'll get you through this."

" Can you please just lay with me for a bit? Do we have to get moving right away?"

" I can definitely lay with you, whatever you want. We have all the time in the world."

It sounded like a promise of something Stiles couldn't guarantee, but he'd be damned if he didn't try his best for it. Derek weakly scooted away, Stiles fit around him, resting his head against Derek's, tangling their legs together, trying to somehow melt into him, morph into something that would be healthy and safe and not dying on a hospital bed. Derek breathed in so hungrily, his chest ached a little. Stiles smelled of sterilization and misery and a hint of ink, but beneath all that, there was that smell, of freshly baked cookies and milk, of faded perfume and aftershave, of burgers and curly fries and – home. Stiles smelled of good things, things that made the world better, made Derek kind of want to keep going. Derek was tempted to hold his breath, if only to keep it there for a little bit longer, unwilling to let go. He wasn't ready.

" I missed you." Derek whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the kind of loneliness he felt with Stiles away, the kind of emptiness he tried to fill with anything until Stiles came back but couldn't, because the spaces Stiles left behind were Stiles-sized, carved out by his lack of presence, and nothing could fit in there right.

" I missed you too." Derek allowed the sincerity in Stiles' voice to settle what little anxiety he had left that maybe Stiles wanted nothing more to do with him, maybe Stiles would be done. But his limbs were thrown around him like they were trying to make him stay. **_As if_** Derek would ever be the one to leave.

" So, you figured it out after all." For a moment, Stiles wished he hadn't. He wished he never had to utter those words at all, put Derek through such unbearable pain.

" I did. Are you still scared?" Stiles kind of was too.

" A little. But not because I don't trust you. Are you? Scared, I mean?"

" No, not really. I know what needs to be done and I know you're strong enough to make it, so."

" You're lying." There was no judgment there, if anything, Stiles could hear a hint of a knowing smile. Damn those werewolf super-hearing powers.

" Yeah, well. Am I lying or is it a natural blip in my heartbeat caused by – "

" Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Stiles."

 

After the situation settled and people had nothing left to say, Stiles went to inform the chief of surgery of their game plan, taking Melissa with him for the whole supernatural aspect of things. It went well, apparently the chief had his own encounters that he couldn't quite explain so he didn't need much convincing. Melissa suggested a surgeon and three nurses that she knew had supernatural background, and would be familiar with the procedure, including herself, although it was no longer part of her job being the chief of nurses. Then Derek was being prepped for surgery.

Stiles decided to pass by his room, check up on him again before he had to scrub in, but when he went to push the door opened, his ears caught the whispered voices of him and his dad, and Stiles never said he was not a curious man. So, he let his hands fall beside him, his ears inch slightly closer.

" I think this was always his worst fear. That, something would happen to you and all the medicine in the world would fail to help. I think ever since Claudia, it's just been – " Stiles stopped breathing a little, regretted his decision to not walk straight in and stop his dad from ever uttering his mother's name and making it sound like that, heavy and quiet and so broken apart. He didn't want his dad to slip back into the place he was all those years ago, burying himself into a bottle to keep from digging her back up.

" I wish I could spare him all of this. If I – if I knew this would happen, I would have, turned every stone, asked everyone for help earlier, stopped it from ever getting this bad."

" I know that. He does too. But, maybe he needs to be the one to bring you back, help you, and then, maybe he'll forgive himself for his mom."

" I don't know, I mean, there are some losses that always stay with you. You can – save all the lives in the world, stop it from crashing and burning, and that one loss would still overweigh everything else. I mean. It's been almost 25 years and I still haven't forgiven the fire or what it had taken."

" Do you – do you think he ever wished it was me instead?"

Stiles put a hand over his mouth, feeling things crawling up his throat, beating against his insides, clinging to his tongue, wanting to seep through.

" John – "

" I mean, I did. For a long time. Not just because I think she was more capable than me of coping with, a loss like that. But for him too. Half the time, I had no clue what I was doing. I just had this little human being who depended on me for everything, looked up at me with those wide, brown eyes and waited for me to guide him through life and. God, the amount of times I thought he'd be better off without me at all. The nights I spent thinking of all the ways I'd fucked him up. I just – I wonder if he ever realized how much better of a parent he deserved. I wonder, if he resents me for living when she didn't."

" No, no, fuck, no, John. He never – he would never think like that. Come on, he's your son, you know him, hell, you **_raised_** him. He **_adores_** you, God, I've never seen a son love his parent so much. I'm not sure I would have loved my own parents like that, if, you know, if they were still around. You got him through everything. You did that. And he knows it too. You should see the way he talks about you when you're not around, you would think you put the sun and the moon in the sky for him. Don't – don't ever doubt that he would take you over anyone, every single time."

Stiles wanted to kiss Derek into oblivion, he loved him so much.

" Thank you, son. But I think I realized Stiles' capacity to love when he met you. He had that, lightness about him, and that stupid grin never left his face, it was borderline irritating. I would be yelling about something and he would just be so cool about it, it drove me insane. But it reminded me of my kind of love, with Claudia, with – "

" Melissa?" Stiles could almost hear the knowingness in Derek's voice, the playfulness.

" You better not get smart with me, boy, I have a cane and I am not afraid to use it." Derek laughed and laughed and Stiles fell even more in love with him. With this moment in time.

" No, but really, what you two have is, special. It's the best thing that's ever happened to my son. So do everything you can to not make him lose that, because as strong as Stiles is, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to be there and watch him have his entire world ripped apart again. I don't think I have much more to offer, so he needs you. I – we all do. You kind of grew on me. Some might even say, I love you like a son. Because I do. So just – kick it in the ass."

Stiles heard motion, like his dad was standing up, finding his balance before folding on top of Derek, holding onto him. He didn't hear Derek's response, because his phone started ringing in his pocket, all loud and exposing. He cursed under his breath, answering it if only just to shut it the hell up. It was Lydia, and he gave her all the updates he had, apologized for not calling earlier, and stretched the call for as long as he could because his dad was standing by the door, eyebrows rested in a smug, expectant expression and he could hear Derek's distant laughter, and he just didn't want to deal with it, okay? It was his husband and his dad and he could snoop around and listen in all he wanted, who were they to tell him otherwise?

Once he put his phone away, his dad joined in on the laughter. He groaned, put a threatening finger in the air, poking it in his father's vibrating, lively chest.

" Shut up, old man." He leaned in, planted a quick kiss to the sheriff's cheek.

" And you, sir, are the best man I have ever met and I love you, so much. I will tell you all about it after we get this done and over with, okay? I love you." He didn't dare walk into the room, didn't dare cut the distance between them, because he didn't know how he would ever be able to leave again. So he just threw him a kiss in the air, patted his dad's shoulder like he was the one in need of comfort, before running down the hallway, still smelling of embarrassment and the warm and fuzzy kind of heat. It was the most Stiles that Stiles has been in years. It was everything they knew him to be, everything they remembered and loved, so deeply. He could have all those degrees, solve all those cases, he could be the most well-known, most accomplished diagnostic doctor, and he would still be just Stiles to them.

Stiles and Melissa scrubbed in, made sure everything was prepped and ready in the OR, when they rolled Derek in. Stiles removed the mask from over his mouth, leaned down and let his lips leave an imprint on Derek's forehead, let his skin carve out its exact feeling into him, let them have this one moment before everything started speeding past them, spiraling in a direction he didn't completely know yet.

" Are you ready? Melissa and I are going to be right here, all the way through, don't worry, okay?" Derek nodded, exhausted by the whirlwind of emotions he'd been attempting to tame all day, drained by all the attempts he made to keep it together, to be as in one-piece as he'd ever been, if only for Stiles' sake.

" Okay, he's ready. We're ready." Stiles announced to the room, giving Derek a final nod as if saying _it's you and me_ before he put the mask back on, stepped back and allowed the surgeons to introduce themselves, tell Derek everything he already knew was meant to happen. They put something like an oxygen mask over Derek's face, told him they'd inject him with a sedative too, that he should count from 1 to 10. He did, he counted all the way up to 15 before they pushed another sedative through his IV. He kept counting until he got to 33, and Stiles released a series of fucks through his mask.

" Derek, babe, it's not working, you're not going to sleep. I – shit, Derek, I'm sorry but we're going to have to do this while you're awake for – all of it." Stiles came back into Derek's view, taking off his gloves and mask, knowing that there was no threat of infection now that his body was no longer under the influence of that wolfsbane.

" Okay, it's okay. I can do this." Stiles smiled, but it looked more like a wince.

The surgeons said that they would start around his abdominal area, and then move up. Melissa and the nurses spread out to hold each of Derek's limbs down. They had to call Cora and Scott in too, knowing that they could probably use any extra hands, especially since they're werewolf hands.

" Alright, babe, the doctor is going to start now, it will probably feel like – " Derek's howls drowned out Stiles' voice. He could feel his own lips moving, knew he was blurting words out, but Derek's agonized screams were ringing in his ears, he thought they would pierce through his drums, leave him deaf, with the last thing he ever heard being the sound of Derek dying away.

" I know, I know, it's okay, it's going to be okay, I've got you, I have you, Derek, it's going to be okay, baby, just hold on, hold on to me, it's okay." Stiles' hands were being crushed between Derek's, his bones lapping over one another in ways that were all wrong. He could feel the blood escaping his veins, as he squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying, buried his face into his sleeve to keep from screaming out.

" Stiles, let's switch, he can hold onto my hands, I'll heal," Scott stepped in, letting go of the leg he was meant to hold down, and it was immediately kicking everyone away, bursting through people like it was creating a way out, through them.

" No, I'm okay, it's fine."

" Derek, Derek, baby, hey, listen to me, focus on my voice, I'm right here, just – fuck, Derek, **_listen_** to me." Derek didn't stop howling, Stiles didn't think he could, but his screams quieted a little, like he was trying to make some room for Stiles' voice.

" That's good, baby, you're doing so good. Okay, so I have something that I need to tell you, it's a bit of a well-kept secret, okay, are you ready? Remember that sweater you got me for Christmas the year before last? Well, I didn't lose it in Orlando like I told you. I gave it to the homeless man that's always near the station, because I hate that thing so much and I couldn't find any more ways to tell you that I do." Derek strained to huff out something of a laugh but it fell past his lips as a cry, then another.

" I – I know that thing looked f – familiar when I saw h – him last month." Stiles did the laughing for him, wanting him to hear something of comfort, of release.

The doctors hit a particularly tender spot and Derek's back arched upwards, his bones tightened so severely, they sounded like they were breaking.

" Okay, okay, okay. Before I went to that last conference, I was the one who ate the last of the peanut butter, not Kira. I just said it was her because she's pregnant and I knew she scared you too much to actually say anything about it."

" You – bastard!"

" I told you I will get you some more, Derek."

" You always do and it – it never – happens."

" It will this time, I swear to God, I'll get you all the fucking peanut butter they have, just – hang in there. I love you, please, hold on, Derek."

" Are we almost there? Come on, he's in pain here!"

" K – keep talking. Stiles, talk to – to me."

" Okay, talking, you want me to talk, that's fine, I can do that. On our first date, I almost bailed when I found out you liked hawaiin pizza. Fruit should never be anywhere near pizza and a man with taste buds that are okay with the combination, freaks me out."

" I like – "

" The sweetness with the saltiness, I know, I know, you still have a shitty taste in food for it."

" The first mass is out." One of the doctors announced. Stiles breathed out, letting his head fall onto their clasped hands, completely wiped out.

" You're doing great, Derek, fuck, you're incredible."

" It – it feels like I'm dying. Like – I'm dying again, Stiles."

Stiles thought of the alpha's claws piercing through Derek, then widening that hole till it almost ate him whole. He thought of his insides spilling out, and the color draining from his skin. He remembered him swaying, being thrown over a balcony, falling in slow motion, it had felt like years. Like Stiles was watching him fall to his death for the rest of his miserable life. And then he'd crashed, and stayed so incredibly still. He remembered his hands literally holding his flush together like that would somehow make him whole again. He remembered his eyes twitching, not wanting to blink in case his chest started moving again, in case there were any signs of him being alive.

The pictures from that day cleared away, as he let his eyes fall onto Derek's sweaty face, his own eyes opened now, a single tear sliding against his sickly skin, it could have been a sweat drop, if he didn't look like a broken man.

" You're not. This is supposed to keep that from happening. You're **_not_** going to die, Derek."

" Sorry. I'm sorry." Derek let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes again.

" What for? Why are you sorry?"

" For forgetting our anniversary that one time, and – letting you sleep on the couch when we fought about you not spending enough time at home. For not saying anything when you asked if I even loved you on our fifth date and for – for making you think I see you differently after cheating on that one exam. I – I'm sorry for not telling you about the hunters and for – fuck, for not picking up the phone when your dad was shot and – "

" How do you even remember all this shit?"

" I remember everything, every single time I did something wrong to you and – I'm sorry, Stiles. I'm – doing my best. I'm trying."

" I know you are. You're the best husband in the world, Derek. The **_best_**. And all those things are so small, so insignificant, in comparison to all the years you gave me. I learned how to love and be loved with you, Derek. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself, more than I've ever believed in anything. And you didn't have to. You didn't have to be there day in and day out, but you were. And that will always count for more."  

" I love you, okay? I – love you so much."

" Okay, okay, yeah, I love you too."

" I can't see the second mass." Derek's head moved away from Stiles, like he didn't want him to see how tight his features were beneath all that pain.

" What do you mean? You can't fucking rummage in his insides when he's wide awake, you're hurting him. Fuck, okay, stop moving around and follow my directions." Stiles let Derek's grip close around his hands as far as he needed it to, guiding the surgeon's hands, until he announced that he found the second mass, and within seconds, it was out too.

" Just one more, baby, we're almost done."

" The lab just confirmed that the masses themselves are filled with wolfsbane, they seem to have acted as some sort of greenhouse for it to grow, so be careful not to pierce any of them while they're still inside." Melissa warned, speaking mostly to the surgeon.

" Is that even possible?"

" Clearly it is."

" This is crazy, this case is insane."

" My brother isn't just a case. He's a real life human being whom you're repeatedly stabbing into so hurry the fuck up and leave the fascination for later." Cora groaned, sounding like she was this close to losing all control and just biting through the doctor for what he was doing to her brother.

" Well, he's more than just a human being, he's a werewolf. Those things are supposed to be only in movies – "

" Those **_things_**? Dude, are you trying to get clawed? Keep this up and you'll get face-to-face time with one of those things, fucking asshole."

" Now, now, there won't be any clawing happening in this OR. There could be needles accidentally poking through skin causing some rashes along with excessive diarrhea, but I'm sure you wouldn't want that spreading in the break room, Doc, so how about you just do your job?"

" Yes, ma'am." The doctor gulped, not knowing who to fear more. Stiles smiled a little, hiding it in Derek's neck. It tickled, but Derek was too out of it to react.

" We're closing the abdomen now and then we'll move to the chest area."

" They're closing you up, Derek, you might feel like you're being poked by a needle repeatedly, but it shouldn't be as bad as opening you up was. Okay? Are you doing okay? Still with me?"

Derek roughly breathed out, nodding once. He felt like he was being set on fire from the inside out, wondered if his family felt like that too. He thought of how long they had to endure that before their bodies gave out, he wondered whose scream outlasted everyone else's. It probably would have been his mother, she was still the epitome of strength to him. Of course, now there was Stiles too, but his mom taught him the primary meaning of strength, Stiles added to that, showed him all the different ways one person could be strong. Like now, he was physically keeping Derek together, keeping all his pieces in his hands that sounded like they could fall away from the rest of his body. If it was Derek, he would have been an emotional wreck, would have counted and recounted all the exits and ran out the first one as soon as the screaming came. But not Stiles. Stiles could write books about staying, could teach the world how to stay when all it'd ever been taught was leaving.

" Okay, Derek, this one is going to hurt, like, really motherfucking hurt. You don't have to be strong, okay? Don't be stubborn. If you feel like you're going to pass out, let yourself go. I'll take care of you. Okay? Don't be a hero, everyone in here already knows you are, you have nothing to prove." Derek's head slowly turned towards Stiles again, his mouth opening like he was going to say something, but all that came out were screams. Splitting, agonizing, inhumane screams. Cora left the arm she was holding down, covered her ears with her hands and pretended none of this was happening.

" Pass out, pass out, fuck, please pass out."

There seemed to be no end to the screams, one after the other, with no release, no light at the end of the tunnel. It felt like the tunnel had collapsed on top of them all and all the sounds of the outside world were cut off except for one.

Derek was losing air, unable to put a sound to his screams, but he was still screaming. He was still feeling his ribs being forcefully parted, his lungs doing this thing, like they were being torn open, layer by layer, only so much worse than that. Stiles started humming the music to the song they had their first dance to, he had his lips right by Derek's ears, willing anything to penetrate other than the sound of his own soul leaving his body, his own breath leaving and finding no way to get back into him.

" Stiles," Derek cried out when he tried to breathe, but then his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and Stiles faded away before he could ever get to him.

Derek's hands loosened around Stiles, almost falling completely away, but Stiles held on, resting his head next to Derek's, looking at his beautiful, unresponsive features, still humming the melody to the song like Derek could still hear it. Scott whispered a _thank god_ , shaking his hands in the air, as if ridding them of the feeling of Derek resisting with everything left in him. Stiles followed the movement of Derek's chest and pretended it wasn't cracked open for everything to seep through and everyone to see, he watched Derek's eyelids not flutter, not move, not do anything to try and reopen. But then –

" Something is wrong." Stiles lifted his head, suddenly aware.

" What do you mean? I can already see the mass."

" No, no, it's not that. Something – something is wrong with Derek." Stiles started eying everything around him, analyzing every screen, every tube, every motion, waiting for whatever it was, to just drop.

It was less than a minute later, when Derek flatlined, the steady beep of the machine replacing the sound of his screams, and Stiles didn't know which was worse, didn't know how much more he could take.

" Shit, get me a crash cart, now!" Stiles jumped over Derek, a thigh on each of his sides, as if grounding him, keeping him from going away. He started compressions, as Melissa charged the defibrillator, yelling out a _clear_. Stiles put his hands up, watching as Derek's chest moved all wrong, crashed back against the table.

" Don't do this to me. Come on, come on, come on, Derek, please, baby, please, don't do this. You can't do this to me. Come on!"

When Melissa recharged the defibrillator for the fourth time, a small, barely there breath fell past Derek's lips. Stiles climbed off him, his legs giving out before he could find his balance, so he ended up a pile on the floor, with an arm over his eyes as he finally allowed himself to cry.

" Oh, Stiles," Melissa sighed, crouching down on her knees, kindly patting Stiles' chest.

" I'm sorry. I'm fine, I just – I need a minute."

" It's okay, take all the time you need, we're not going anywhere." Stiles felt some shuffling, thought Melissa was probably now sitting on the floor next to him, patiently waiting for him to get himself together, prepared to help in any way he needed for her to. Stiles was so lucky to have her, they all were, she was a lifesaver.

" Third mass is out, let's close him up."

Stiles sniffled, told himself this was pathetic, that he needed to get it together, that Derek deserved better than this. He moved the arm he had over his eyes away, blinked against the blinding light, nodded at whatever question was spread across Melissa's features, as she helped him back up to his feet, going back to where she previously stood, when he took Derek's hands in his, wanting to forget these last minutes ever happened. Willing this entire day away.

Less than half an hour later, Derek was pushed back to his room, everything seemingly stable. Cora crashed against Stiles once Derek was settled back in his hospital bed, held him long enough for him to break again. It was easier this time, to cry himself dry. Derek was no longer in prominent danger, he wasn't visibly cracked open, he wasn't going to vanish if Stiles let himself break for a moment or two. And boy, did he break. For more than just a moment or two, but whatever, it had been a day from hell and Derek barely made it through and – Stiles got to break all he wanted, no one could hold it against him. Not that anyone planned to.

Somewhere between sob number 12 and sob number 47, Doctor Chase walked in, slowing when he saw Stiles barely held up by Cora's resilient arms, the sound of him crying like nothing he'd ever heard before. Like years upon years of heartbreak and misery. Like a lifetime of pain.

" Oh. I – I'm sorry, I'll come back later." Even in the fog of his anxiety and paralyzing fear of loss, Stiles thought that maybe Chase had something to say about Derek, as he pushed against Cora, wiped and rewiped across his face, clearing his throat to at least not sound as wrecked as he felt.

" No, no, what is it, Chase?"

" I just – I wanted to apologize, for being a dick earlier. And tell you that I think that's one hell of a stunt you just pulled and I hope your husband makes a full recovery. It was an honor, watching you work."

" Oh, uh, thank you, doctor Chase. I – you're not half bad either." Chase stood there, stunned like he didn't know if it was a joke or not. Then, Stiles' lips curved upwards weakly, and Chase let out a snort, going for a handshake, but Stiles pulled him into a hug, aching for any sort of human touch after feeling death against his skin as he held onto Derek.

" The chief wanted to see you by the way, whenever you have the time. I think it's about a case that he needs help with."

" Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can. He can send me the file here if it's urgent, I'll take a look at it."

" Will do. You should get that hand checked out too." Chase weakly waved goodbye, leaving and closing the door behind him.

" Derek will probably be out for hours, so I think I'm going to wash up and go see what the chief needs. Can someone update Lydia please? Tell her not to freak out that it wasn't me doing it, tell her I got busy, or – something, I don't know." Stiles addressed the room of people, Scott nodded, volunteered to call Lydia himself. Stiles whispered his gratitude, turning to head out, when his dad spoke.

" Are you sure you don't need to stop for a minute? Take everything in?"

" What is there to take in? He's fine, I'm fine, the rest is just – white noise, pops."

" Whatever you want, son. Can you – at least go see someone for that hand, it doesn't look right."

" I will, don't worry." The sheriff didn't seem convinced, Stiles tried to add some sort of smile but it didn't help much. He walked out anyway.

It turned out, there was an 8 year old getting transferred from another hospital because they couldn't do much for him. Also, Derek had broken through two of Stiles' fingers and a wrist, so that was – great. Everything was great.

Stiles met up with the family, looked through 3 years worth of test results and prescriptions and scans. They had a conference call with the doctors from the other hospital to find out the last steps that were taken to help him. About 10 hours later, Stiles passed by Derek's room to see if he was awake or not. He wasn't yet, but Melissa was, checking his temperature and BP. Stiles walked away before she could see him. He just had to keep pushing.

6 more hours had him in the kid's room, explaining to his parents that it seemed to be a bacterial infection in the brain stem, and as scary as that sounded, a strong antibiotic could almost completely get rid of all his symptoms. They hugged him and he gave it his all not to break down again.

He walked back to Derek's room on almost dead feet, dragging his own weight across the empty hallways after consulting on 2 more cases. His mind was completely fried as he pushed past the door, took off his shoes, and went for the socks when –

" You look like shit."

" Oh my – holy shit, Derek, you – you're awake." Stiles had a hand over his heart, his voice moving through octaves of terror, excitement, and disbelief.

" Very observant, you." Derek's lips tiredly formed into a smile, his features not as dull as Stiles had last seen them. Exhausted, still, but there was more life to them now. A lot more.

" You wouldn't believe the day I've had." Stiles looked at the clock by the window, before correcting himself. " Make that 2 days."

" Let me guess, your husband was poisoned with wolfsbane and it was creating these tumors inside of him but outside these tumors there was no wolfsbane left so he had to go through surgery with no form of relief and ended up passing out like a wuss."

" You forgot the part where his heart stopped on the table, the part where I – I almost lost him."

" What?" Derek's eyes widened, it was almost comical, how many expressions he was capable of portraying now.

" You scared the living hell out of me, Derek. I – I thought – "

" You gave me your word, didn't you? You said I wasn't going to die in there, and I believed you. You should take your own word for things sometimes, Stiles." Derek still looked scared, that he'd come this close to going away for good, but he had this blind belief in Stiles, so if he told him it was going to be okay, he had no doubt in his mind that it would be. Even if he did almost die in the process.

" You're ridiculous."

" Well, when you're married to someone like you, you kind of have to be. What happened to your hand?" And oh. Stiles forgot all about the cast now around his hand, and the ache climbing up his arm, residing across his entire side.

" Oh, it's – nothing, I'm fine."

" Can you stop lying and tell me what's wrong with it please?" Derek groaned, sounding more and more like himself. Stiles wanted to cry again, even though he thought he was all cried out.

" I broke a couple of fingers and my wrist."

" How did you manage that?"

" Uh, you were kind of squeezing my hands too hard. So." There was a moment of stunned silence, before Derek started spewing out one apology after the other.

" Stop. It wasn't your fault. Besides, I would take a couple of broken fingers if it means getting you back." Stiles was hesitant at first, to touch or be touched by Derek, in fear of feeling things stopping inside of him again, feeling like death wasn't that far away, lurking, waiting to take Derek away. But once they touched, once they kissed, everything faded away except the two of them. It felt just like Stiles remembered it to. Just right.

" I'm sorry for your hand."

" I'm sorry for your face."

" What does that even mean?"

" It means you have an ugly face."

" Even without werewolf hearing, anyone would catch that lie from a mile away."

" Again, this very easily could be a blip caused by gas movement through my body or – "

" I love when you talk medical to me."

" Oh yeah?"

" Yeah."

" Well, I love **_you_**."

Derek threw his head back with laughter, his chest vibrating, filling up with joy like it wasn't just drowning them all in misery and fear.

" I love you too, you absolute dork."


End file.
